thing, Charles thought as he started up his car. For a man in his position to have been refused cash for his own cheque would have been the beginning of the end. Though, indeed, for the matter of that, the evil day seemed merely postponed. That thousand wouldn’t last for ever. And when it was done…?
Charles set his teeth. At all events he needn’t think about that to-day.
As he steered his car round the corner into Malton Road his heart gave a sudden leap. There, just disappearing into Oliver’s, Cold Pickerby’s best drapery establishment, was no less a personage than Una Mellor. Charles parked his car outside the post office and crossed the street.
He had not seen Una since the night of the ball, but she had consented to drive with him on the following afternoon to Scarborough, dining either there or somewhere on the way home. He had imagined her agreeing to the excursion was a hopeful sign, and he was looking forward to it with corresponding eagerness.
For a young lady who could not get the simplest article of wearing apparel nearer than Paris or London, Una managed to spend a pretty considerable time in the shop. Half the cigar which Charles had lit had been consumed when she made her appearance. She was evidently somewhat taken aback when she saw him.
‘Hallo, Charles,’ she greeted him, and her manner was cool and off-hand. ‘What brings you here at this time of day?’
‘I’ve been paying some calls,’ Charles returned vaguely. ‘What a piece of luck to meet you, Una!’
‘Is it? For whom?’
‘For both of us,’ Charles declared stoutly.
‘You seem to know more about it than I do. What did you want?’
‘To see you,’ Charles returned, feeling pleased that he had found the mot juste.
‘Well, now you see me, what is it?’
‘Can I drive you home, or anywhere? The car’s just across the road.’
‘Sorry; I’m going in here to Smith’s.’
‘I’ll wait for you.’
‘You’ll have to wait till dinner-time, then. I’m going to the club for tea.’
‘I’ll come back just before dinner.’
‘No, you won’t. Freddy Allom’s taking me home.’
Charles lost his head. ‘Oh, Una, can’t I see you this afternoon at all?’ he begged.
‘My dear Charles, don’t be such a priceless ass. Much better if you’d go and do some work. And, by the way’ – she had been walking on, but now she stopped and faced him – ‘I’m afraid I’ll not be able to go for that drive to-morrow. We have some people coming in for lunch, and they always stay interminably.’
Charles was overwhelmed with dismay. Una was often short and unsympathetic in her manner, but this time she was positively unkind. It looked as if for some reason she had wished to hurt his feelings. She had certainly succeeded.
He had the wit to see that argument would be useless. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘But I mustn’t keep you. I’ll look forward to the drive the first day that you can manage.’
She nodded curtly and disappeared into the library. Charles felt it frightfully. It couldn’t be that unmentionable ass Allom? Why, the fellow was a half-wit, with the manners of a gigolo and the appearance of a cross-eyed ape. No girl in her senses could fall for such a fantastic imbecile…
Charles remembered Stimpson’s manner. Was it…? Could it be that stories were already going round?… And Allom had money… Savagely Charles started up his car.
A special providence watched over the children of Malton Road that afternoon as Charles drove to the Crowther Works. He left the car outside the gates and, passing through them, walked quickly down the yard. A moment later he had found Sandy Macpherson and drawn him aside.
‘Tell me, Sandy,’ he said, ‘are there any yarns going about this place?’
The Scotsman looked at him sourly. ‘A’ll no deny it,’ he admitted cautiously.
‘What are they saying?’
‘Are ye sure ye want to know?’
‘Of course I want to know. Get along, man, can’t
Charles set his teeth. At all events he needn’t think about that to-day.
As he steered his car round the corner into Malton Road his heart gave a sudden leap. There, just disappearing into Oliver’s, Cold Pickerby’s best drapery establishment, was no less a personage than Una Mellor. Charles parked his car outside the post office and crossed the street.
He had not seen Una since the night of the ball, but she had consented to drive with him on the following afternoon to Scarborough, dining either there or somewhere on the way home. He had imagined her agreeing to the excursion was a hopeful sign, and he was looking forward to it with corresponding eagerness.
For a young lady who could not get the simplest article of wearing apparel nearer than Paris or London, Una managed to spend a pretty considerable time in the shop. Half the cigar which Charles had lit had been consumed when she made her appearance. She was evidently somewhat taken aback when she saw him.
‘Hallo, Charles,’ she greeted him, and her manner was cool and off-hand. ‘What brings you here at this time of day?’
‘I’ve been paying some calls,’ Charles returned vaguely. ‘What a piece of luck to meet you, Una!’
‘Is it? For whom?’
‘For both of us,’ Charles declared stoutly.
‘You seem to know more about it than I do. What did you want?’
‘To see you,’ Charles returned, feeling pleased that he had found the mot juste.
‘Well, now you see me, what is it?’
‘Can I drive you home, or anywhere? The car’s just across the road.’
‘Sorry; I’m going in here to Smith’s.’
‘I’ll wait for you.’
‘You’ll have to wait till dinner-time, then. I’m going to the club for tea.’
‘I’ll come back just before dinner.’
‘No, you won’t. Freddy Allom’s taking me home.’
Charles lost his head. ‘Oh, Una, can’t I see you this afternoon at all?’ he begged.
‘My dear Charles, don’t be such a priceless ass. Much better if you’d go and do some work. And, by the way’ – she had been walking on, but now she stopped and faced him – ‘I’m afraid I’ll not be able to go for that drive to-morrow. We have some people coming in for lunch, and they always stay interminably.’
Charles was overwhelmed with dismay. Una was often short and unsympathetic in her manner, but this time she was positively unkind. It looked as if for some reason she had wished to hurt his feelings. She had certainly succeeded.
He had the wit to see that argument would be useless. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘But I mustn’t keep you. I’ll look forward to the drive the first day that you can manage.’
She nodded curtly and disappeared into the library. Charles felt it frightfully. It couldn’t be that unmentionable ass Allom? Why, the fellow was a half-wit, with the manners of a gigolo and the appearance of a cross-eyed ape. No girl in her senses could fall for such a fantastic imbecile…
Charles remembered Stimpson’s manner. Was it…? Could it be that stories were already going round?… And Allom had money… Savagely Charles started up his car.
A special providence watched over the children of Malton Road that afternoon as Charles drove to the Crowther Works. He left the car outside the gates and, passing through them, walked quickly down the yard. A moment later he had found Sandy Macpherson and drawn him aside.
‘Tell me, Sandy,’ he said, ‘are there any yarns going about this place?’
The Scotsman looked at him sourly. ‘A’ll no deny it,’ he admitted cautiously.
‘What are they saying?’
‘Are ye sure ye want to know?’
‘Of course I want to know. Get along, man, can’t
Similar Books
